Wednesday, 11 December 2013

The rugby rivalry between New Zealand’s All Blacks and South Africa’s Springboks became part of each
country’s sporting legend as a result of the Springbok tours of New Zealand in 1921, 1937 and 1956, and the All Black
tours of South Africa
in 1928 and 1949. The racism of white South Africans impacted on this sporting
relationship, commencing with South African shock at having to play a Maori
team in 1921. Their refusal to play the New Zealand Maori team on their 1937 tour prompted calls from Te Arawa and other iwi for a boycott. South Africa’s
introduction of apartheid policies in 1948 resulted in the New Zealand Rugby
Union agreeing to South African demands to exclude Maori players from All Black
tours of South Africa.
This led to huge protests against the 1960 All Black tour under the slogan ‘No
Maoris, No Tour’. But despite a petition signed by 160,000 people, the government refused to intervene. South
Africa offered to reclassify Maori players as ‘honorary
whites’ for later tours and, despite continued opposition within New Zealand, the Rugby Union accepted this
condition for the 1970 All Black tour of South Africa.

'No Maoris, No Tour' poster, 1959, Eph-D-Racial-1959-01, ATL

The 1921 Springboks are reportedly disgusted at
playing a Māori team (not to mention being beaten by them)…

Anonymous telegram by visiting South
African newspaper correspondent on Springboks vs. New Zealand Maori XV, cited
in New Zealand Truth, 17 September
1921.

Most unfortunate match ever played. Only
result [of] great pressure being brought to bear on [Springboks Manager, H. C.]
Bennett induced them to meet Maoris, who assisted largely [in] entertainment
[of] Springboks. Bad enough having [to] play team officially designated [as]
New Zealand Natives, but [the] spectacle [of] thousands [of] Europeans
frantically cheering on [a] band of colo[u]red men to defeat members of [their]
own race was too much for Springboks, who [were] frankly disgusted.

Re your objections to playing against
Maoris, if true, please convey to the Boers in your team the deep regret of the
Arawa Maoris, who did not know your feelings in the matter, especially those
who in good faith extended to you and the team the courtesies of their
historical marae at Ohinemutu. The Maoris would have appreciated frankness,
but… to accept the welcome and break bread with our people, and then later
insult them as you have done is not, according to Maoris, the mode adopted by
honourable gentlemen. … May the better team in Saturday’s test win.

Thursday, 5 December 2013

As the New Zealand Wars dragged on in the
late 1860s, the conflicts took on a harsher and more racially tinged edge. With
British imperial troops progressively withdrawn from New Zealand after 1865,
colonial troops and their Maori allies assumed sole responsibility for pursuing
the war instead. In July 1868 the Wellington
Independent newspaper called for no mercy to be shown Maori ‘rebels’ (see The Treaty of Waitangi Companion, p.
145). Its call for ‘rebels’ to be ‘slain without scruple’ was repeated in
equally shocking terms after colonial troops were routed at Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu in
September 1868.

Death of Major von Tempsky at Te Ngutu-o-te-Manu, 7 September 1868, C-033-006, ATL

In a lengthy editorial that reflected on the deaths of Gustavus
von Tempsky and others at the hands of Titokowaru’s force, the newspaper called
for the ‘extermination’ of Taranaki Maori, declaring that:

There is no use blinking the ugly facts of
the case. There are a certain number of natives on the West Coast who will
never cease to rob and burn and murder. These men must be shown no mercy. They
should be treated as wild beasts — hunted down and slain. Modern History
teaches us that irreclaimable savages, who rendered colonization impossible and
the lives of peaceful settlers insecure, have been, in the interests of
society, exterminated...We are not advocating a war against the whole Maori
race — than which no course could be more unjust or impolitic — but what we
emphatically assert is this: there are certain hapus of tribes on the West Coast whose deeds of rapine and murder
have made them the curse of the colony, and
we would exterminate them. It does not matter what means are employed, so
long as the work is done effectually. Head-money, blood-money, killing by
contract — any or either of those means may be adopted, and we shall be content
so long as the business is accomplished, and the colony rid of a terrible
danger and a ruinous taxation. (Wellington
Independent, 10 September 1868)

The newspaper’s views were hardly
uncontroversial and were condemned at the time as ‘disgraceful to an Englishman’.
But the very fact that the Wellington
Independent felt free to give vent to such crude prejudices showed just how
badly relations between Maori and Pakeha had sunk by this time.

Saturday, 23 November 2013

Earlier this week came the official announcement that I had been awarded the John David Stout Research Fellowhip for 2014:

The Stout Research Centre for New Zealand Studies is delighted to
announce that the John David Stout Research Fellow for 2014 will be Dr
Vincent O'Malley, research director of HistoryWorks Ltd.

Dr O’Malley’s most recent book, The Meeting Place: Maori and Pakeha Encounters, 1642-1840 (2012),
was a finalist in the general non-fiction category of the New Zealand
Post Book Awards this year. He is the author of four books on
relationships between Maori and Crown and Pakeha, in addition to many
book chapters and journal articles, and reports for the Treaty of
Waitangi settlements processes. During the fellowship, Dr O’Malley will
be working on a book on the Waikato War, 1863-4. This was a pivotal
turning point in the history of New Zealand, yet no major study has been
undertaken since 1879; it is apt that Dr O’Malley will be exploring
this subject in the year that marks the sesquicentennial of the final
battles of the Waikato War.

The reference to 1879 is to John Featon's book, The Waikato War, published in that year. In this, the sesquicentennial of the outbreak of the Waikato War, we might ask why the relative historical amnesia with respect to wars fought on our own shores, especially compared with the veritable mountain of works on New Zealand's involvement in various overseas conflicts. Part of the answer might lie in the fact that the Waikato War does not fit into a nation-building paradigm. At one time settlers (but not Maori) celebrated Orakau as the moment when New Zealand developed 'the greatest race relations in the world', through the mutual respect both sides were said to have had for one another. That can no longer be sustained, now that we know about the well-documented atrocities committed by British troops during that conflict. But a new narrative around the wars has yet to emerge, hence the kind of uncomfortable silence. These are questions I hope to explore in my project.

This week I gave a paper at the New Zealand Historical Association biennial conference, held at the University of Otago. My paper explored the understandings of British parliamentarians as to the impact of the New Zealand Constitution Act 1852 on Maori communities. Here is the abstract:

Asked to nominate the point at which relations between Maori
and Pakeha had really begun to turn sour in the nineteenth century, many
historians would likely nominate the passage of the New Zealand Constitution
Act 1852. As Chichester Fortescue famously told the House of Commons in 1861, from
the time of the 1852 Act the governor had been ‘[o]bliged to act under a
Constitution which appeared to have been framed in forgetfulness of the existence
of large native tribes within the dominions to which it was intended to apply’.
With the benefit of hindsight it is all too easy to assume that ‘absent-minded
imperialists’ really had forgotten their obligations to Maori. But a close
analysis of British Parliamentary debates on the measure (limited though
discussion was with reference to Maori) suggests this was not entirely true. The
effect of the 1852 Act was to establish a General Assembly nominally open to
all though in practice restricted to Pakeha. But British MPs assumed that some
Maori closest to European towns would be eligible to vote under the new
constitution. They further assumed that most other Maori would be removed from the
General Assembly’s jurisdiction under the section 71 provision enabling ‘native
districts’ to be declared. Under these circumstances there would be little real
injustice provided both measures (a franchise based exclusively on European
land tenure and separate ‘native districts’) were implemented together. The
problem, it is suggested, was less that settlers were granted self-government
than that a tandem measure which would have effectively delivered a similar
outcome for many Maori was not.

New Zealand Constitution Act (source: teara.govt.nz)

+++++++

There is little doubt that the Act, as implemented, was a disaster. It coincided with a growing crisis in relations between Maori and the government, sparked in large part by concern that rangatira were being shut out from a share of the governance of the colony and instead increasingly subject to the whims of general and provincial assemblies from which they were excluded. Such an outcome arguably could have been avoided had Maori been enfranchised at anything like the level British parliamentarians assumed would be the case, and had definite instructions been issued by the Colonial Office for section 71 to be utilised in predominantly Maori districts.

Tuesday, 5 November 2013

On the anniversary of the invasion of Parihaka I am reposting my earlier piece on the events of that day, with additional links at the bottom of the page to further sources of information available online.

++++++++++++

On 5 November 1881 Native Minister John Bryce led 1600 Armed Constabulary
into the South Taranaki settlement of
Parihaka, arresting leaders Te Whiti o Rongomai and Tohu Kakahi. Over the
following weeks the remaining residents were forcibly dispersed and the settlement
destroyed. The ‘crime’ of the people of Parihaka had been to peacefully resist
the confiscation of their lands.

Over the years, these events have been described — and the enormous
injustice that occurred — exposed in a number of secondary works. These include
George Rusden’s 1883 History of New
Zealand, Dick Scott’s influential account Ask That Mountain (1975), Hazel Riseborough’s Days of Darkness (1989), and Rachel Buchanan’s The Parihaka Album (2010).

Yet our knowledge of these events would be much the poorer were it not for
the actions of two journalists, Samuel Crombie-Brown (or Croumbie-Brown in some
versions) and a Mr Humphries, who both, defying Bryce’s extraordinary efforts
to prevent any reporters from being present, made their way into the pa and
provided a first-hand account of the invasion. Crombie-Brown (who was born in Russia and had
fought in the Union Army during the American Civil War) appears to have been a
colourful figure. Prior to the invasion, he had provided the government with a
detailed report on how Parihaka might best be taken.

His relations with ministers deteriorated rapidly thereafter, and it would
seem that he determined to report the events as fully as possible by way of
payback. But whatever his motivations, Crombie-Brown provided a compelling
account of the shameful actions of that day. An event that could have easily
been clouded in obfuscation and denial was therefore brought to public
attention as a result.

Here is the eyewitness account that appeared in the Star (the evening newspaper that was a sister publication to the Lyttelton Times for which Crombie-Brown
was special correspondent) on 7 November 1881. It makes for a riveting,
poignant and disturbing read.

Star, 7 November 1881

Dismay and consternation spread through the ranks of newspaper
correspondents at Pungarehu on Friday when it became known late in the day that
all civilians were forbidden to follow the advance of the forces on Parihaka,
and would be arrested if found there on the entrance of the troops. Several
journals had gone to great expense in sending men to the front; and the wrath
of these may be more easily imagined than put into polite language. The
occasion was one of such extreme interest to people, whatever their opinions in
the matter, that specials had been despatched by some papers for the express
purpose of being on the spot during the one eventful day alone. Every effort
was made to obtain a relaxation of the Draconian law, but in vain. To no
purpose did the ambassador of the Otago
Daily Times and the representative of a round dozen of evening papers call
upon the generalissimo and the Defence Minister. Colonel Roberts was unwilling,
and the honorable John was as inexorable as he is popularly supposed to be
honest. Your chief correspondent was told point blank by the former that he or
any other European caught in the manner described, would be arrested and kept
in durance vile till next day, adding that such were Mr Bryce’s orders.
However, “collaring Native orderlies and stopping Englishmen in the execution
of a duty fully recognised by all civilized commanders and educated statesmen,
are two different things.” It became a point of honour to defeat the common
enemy, so baying worked out a scheme by which he might possibly be
circumvented, it was resolved to take a look at the camp, and then turn in. The
morrow and the morrow’s deeds were being discussed beforehand very freely, the
obstructive measure meted out to the papers being strongly condemned on all
hands, the more so as it was known to be the result of spite on the part of the
authorities against the representatives of one daily, which need not be
mentioned. If the old story be true, the Defence Minister’s ears must have
tingled from something more than mosquito bites that evening. Of the Taranaki
contingent it was said, with a frankness that made the blood run cold, that
twenty men were sworn to shoot down the first Maori that chance placed it
within their power to kill. It is true that Taranaki men have homes laid
desolate, slaughtered brothers and friends Blain in Maori warfare, to mourn;
still the sentiment, savoured more of the savages’ law of the Utu, at which men wonder so exceedingly,
than of any feeling creditable to the hearts of civilised, not to speak of
Christian men. The Constabulary were less blood-thirsty in their ideas, and
contented themselves with a grand illumination and some uproarious choruses. To
the others happily the excuse they wished for never came. The battle of
Parihaka, the most successful on the bead-roll of famous fights, till the bill shall
have been paid (three prisoners on one side), was won without the firing of a
shot.

John Bryce, 1/4-004946-G, ATL

Our plan for the morning was a simple one, and proved eventually more
effective than our wildest hopes could have anticipated. It was a start in the
grey dawn, and by paths and various ways to gain such positions before the
array of skirmishers was thrown out, that we should be able to observe with
ease all that passed, in spite of arrests or detentions. Your other
correspondents will tell in detail how well we succeeded, the fact being that
the two people whose absence was most desired saw and heard more collectively
of what took place than any other two observers of the scene. The fates are
grimly humorous at times, and so it proved in the present instance. In company
with Captain Dawson, an ex-Imperial officer, and Mr H. Vere Barclay, who had
undertaken to be our guide, both being desirous of seeing what passed, and Mr
Humphries, correspondent for the Press Association, we started at early morn.
One of us and Mr Humphries had decided to enter Parihaka, and take the risk of
arrest, when the Riot Act should be read to the quiet assemblage of tranquil
Maories; the other three were to skirmish by themselves, and be guided by
circumstances. On the homeopathic system barbarous regulations had to be met by
uncivilised procedure, so like Indians on the war-path, we slunk along under
cover, for fresh horse tracks were seen everywhere, and we feared the patrols
of our hostile friends and the eyes of the tall blockhouse. It was one of those
beautiful mornings that our favoured clime enjoys, when the mere act of living
in it, under ordinary circumstances, delights, but the diamond drops of dew
upon the fern, so pretty in the distance, are drenching upon near acquaintance.
The hoary head of old Taranaki rose before us in all the virgin beauty lent it
by the new born day, but who could admire it wading knee deep in a swamp,
switched across the eyes by “lawyers,” climbing Maori fences, and plunging over
potato beds? The slur cast upon the Maories by their rabid foes, that they do
not cultivate the land they hold, proceeds from deep ignorance of the facts.
There are square miles of potato, melon and cabbage fields around Parihaka;
they stretch on every side; and acres and acres of the land show the results of
great industry and care.

Our pilot, a thorough bushman, whoso name is known as the hero of the
Queensland and South Australian boundary-line expedition of a few years back,
took us through fern and forest safely up close to Parihaka, before the dew
began to dry upon the leaves. At seven o’clock the strains of the band were
heard playing the force out of Pungarehu. “Up to time at all events,” says some
one, allowing the enemy the merit of punctuality. The Native Minister is not in
the odour of sanctity with us. We have all wet our legs fording streams, and
spoilt our rest to get to windward of his flanking parties, and there is a
decidedly revengeful tone about the conversation. Half-an-hour after, having
scaled the defences of an old pah, our gallant guide, who knows every inch of
the ground, brings us to where we can peer into the village; thence our ways lie
apart. We worked round towards the back of the kainga, and soon had the satisfaction of chuckling in our sleeves
as we heard the bugle call “from the left extend,” which meant skirmishing for
the especial benefit of beating up newspaper men. From the hill, where we
finally decided upon taking up our position, we had a complete view of the
whole village. Few people were astir, except the children who were clustered in
a band at the entrance. All the Natives moving about wore white feathers, but
there was little unusual stir, except the loud baying of the dogs as the
columns drew near. Those who were not sitting massed in the spaces between the
whare’s went peacefully about their usual occupations, but an air of sadness
hung about the place, and there was none of the usual gaiety and singing.

Children of Parihaka, 1/1-006430-G, ATL

The first of the Armed Constabulary appeared about eight o’clock, and were
greeted with loud cheers by the children, who afterwards kept up the haka and skipping with great vigour.
Colonel Roberts, on a black charger and Mr Bryce on a white one soon appeared,
with Mr Rolleston on foot. A position was taken up on a hill at the entrance,
and more and more companies strengthened those which had already arrived. That
the cordon was nearly complete was soon made evident by the appearance of Major
Pitt, with the Nelson men and the Thames Scottish on the north-west side. At 9
o’clock the latter came within a few yards of us, and it was amusing to hear
the Sergeant warning his men in a strong accent to keep a sharp look-out for
enemies in the rear. At his very feet almost were three. Next time he advances
on a dangerous stronghold he will have had more practice. From our vantage
ground, we watched the lines drawn closer and closer till the outside fences
were surrounded. Watching every face on the hill opposite, and the movements of
our rulers, to our intense surprise we discovered three civilians beside Mr Bryce,
who took complete direction of the whole affair out of the Colonel’s hands.
Their faces were well known to at least one or two. Perhaps it was only a
curious coincidence that they should all have been electors of Wanganui. The
events that followed the entrance of the arresting companies, my fellow
correspondents will describe. Colonel Roberts was kind enough to tell a
civilian who went up with the troops and asked if he was going to send him to
the rear, that he did not object to his
presence — only to that of newspaper men. At the same time it is proper to add
that Colonel Roberts is a man possessed of far too much discrimination, and has
nothing to be ashamed of that he should object to the presence of
correspondents. He was simply acting under orders. Until Mr Bryce’s advent,
correspondents were always well received in camp, and treated with the utmost
courtesy.

(Thus far our own correspondent. The thread of the story is now taken up by
our well-known special, who, it will be seen, contrived to get into Parihaka,
despite the Native Minister.)

[FROM OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.]

Arrived at the summit of a small hill overlooking Parihaka, at a distance of
about 300 yards, the party separated; Captain Dawson, Mr Barclay and my brother
correspondent remaining to watch the movements of the troops from the point
gained; Mr Humphries and the writer proceeded to Parihaka. There I found the
Natives gathered together in a large open space between two rows of houses to
the number of at least 2500. They were addressed at intervals by Te Whiti and
Tohu, the tenor of their speeches in no way differing from that of other
speeches recently telegraphed to you. Both enjoined peace and forbearance under
any insults or oppression. The Natives were more than usually grandly dressed,
most of them wearing white feathers in their hair. In a large square at the
entrance to the pah about a hundred young girls were assembled amusing
themselves with skipping ropes. Beyond them, on the road leading to Pungarehu,
some hundreds of boys were gathered, awaiting the arrival of the hoia (soldiers) with great glee. I
strolled round the pah, and found the women engaged in their usual occupations
and as cordial in their welcome as ever. I noticed, however, that amongst the
adults — the women especially — there was a prevailing sadness, as though they
felt a great calamity was approaching. The attempt to reply to a joke or bit of
chaff was piteously feeble. The whole spectacle was saddening in the extreme;
it was an industrious, law-abiding, moral and hospitable community calmly
awaiting the approach of the men sent to rob them of everything dear to them.
As the time approached when the troops might be expected to make their
appearance at Parihaka, Messrs Humphries, Thomson, and I went down the road as
far as we deemed safe in view of the order to arrest newspaper correspondents,
and then stole back behind stones and fences. At 7.15 a.m. we first noticed
some skirmishers extending from the left (our right), and as it was evident
that, if we remained there, we would be outflanked by them, we retreated from
hillock to hillock, keeping well out of sight. I afterwards ascertained that
they were hunting the dreaded newspaper men, and succeeded in arresting four or
five. At 8 o’clock the head of the column appeared round a bend of the main
road. Slightly ahead of them rode Colonel Roberts, commanding, and Mr Bryce,
with their respective staffs, followed by the Armed Constabulary, volunteers,
infantry, and mounted rifles. Owing to the obstacles thrown in the way of Press
men, I cannot get hold of the details; but I understand that about 650 men of
all ranks left Pungarehu, and were joined at Parapara by about 1000 men, under
Major Goring, from Rahotu.

Armed Constabulary at Parihaka, 1881, 10X8-1070-G, ATL

As they proceeded towards Parihaka, pickets were left at various points on
the road, with instructions to stop all civilians. Within about 400 hundred
yards of Parihaka a halt was called, and the staff rode up a slight hill on the
road, from which the pah could be viewed. They remained about ten minutes. All
this time we were lying hidden about midway between the position occupied by
the staff and where the Maories were assembled. The position was a most curious
one, so far as we correspondents were concerned. We were actually hiding from,
and retreating before the European invading force, to which we ought to have been
attached, and retiring for safety upon the supposed enemy. Shortly another move
forward was made, the head of the column making direct for the principal entrance
to the pah. Across this were drawn up in two lines about 200 nearly naked boys,
who vigorously danced the haka, and
sang songs in derision of the invaders. It was mere child’s play to break
through these. At this stage the Armed Constabulary were within 150 yards of
where we were, and we considered it advisable to get into Parihaka and secrete
ourselves where we could observe the subsequent proceedings.

Volunteers in Camp, Parihaka, PA1-q-183-13

It had previously been explained to the Maories that we had been forbidden
by the Pakehas, under pain of arrest, to witness the proceedings ; but,
nevertheless, we were determined to run the risk. They replied: “We quite
understand why the Government are ashamed that the country should know what it
is doing, but we have nothing to be ashamed of, and you are welcome.” They then
proposed that we should sit in the centre amongst them, and they would prevent
our arrest. The impropriety of this was pointed out to them, and finally
arrangements were made for our occupation of a cooking whare from which we
could hear and see all that might transpire. In the meantime the troops were
advancing steadily in columns of four, companies of volunteers being thrown out
so as to nearly surround the pah. At 8.45 am. the Constabulary entered the pah,
halting just within the first row of whares. Mr Bryce, who rode a white horse,
looked exceedingly anxious. Mr Rolleston was on foot, and seemed to regard the
whole affair as a good bit of fun. At this moment Tohu commenced speaking, but in
so low a tone that we could not hear what his words were. By this time Mr
Humphries and myself and our interpreter, Thomson, had taken up our position in
the whare, from between the slabs of which we could observe everything. Mr
Bryce, Colonel Roberts and the staff now took up a position on a slight eminence
near the burial ground, about thirty yards to the rear of the whares. Precisely
at 9 35 Major Tuke, accompanied by Mr Butler, as interpreter, came up to the
edge of the Maori gathering, and without speaking a word waited for five
minutes. The Maories had previously been warned that he would come to day for
their answer to the Proclamation. On the expiration of the five minutes Major
Tuke read the Riot Act. Mr Butler translated it, and both then withdrew, the
Maories still paying not the slightest attention, but maintaining a dead
silence. This was perhaps the most exciting period of the whole proceeding.
Whatever Te Whiti might direct would inevitably be done. The whole assemblage
sat with eyes fixed on Te Whiti. His slightest variation of countenance was
reflected in the faces of all, and any words that he addressed to those close
to him were whispered from one to another, until they reached the uttermost
circle of the densely-packed meeting. At 10 o’clock a company of picked men,
numbering ninety-five, under the command of Captains Newell and Gudgeon,
marched further into the pah, and took up a position within a few yards of the
assembly. Captain Newell briefly addressed the men, telling them to be firm,
but to use no unnecessary violence. They were armed with loaded revolvers, and
carried handcuffs. Just about this time some conversation took place respecting
the absence of newspaper correspondents, while, as a matter of fact, I could
have touched Captain Newell with a walking stick. Tohu now addressed the
Natives briefly. He said: “Let the man (Bryce) who has raised the war finish
his work this day. Let neither men nor women cook. We have already eaten, and
will wait where we are. Do not let any be absent. Stay where you are; even if
the bayonet be put to your breasts do not resist.” Until 10.50 a period of deep
suspense and suppressed excitement followed. At that hour the bugle sounded “advance
skirmishers,” and the skirmishers swarmed down the surrounding hills towards
the pah, forming in a line round it. Major Tuke again came towards where the
arresting party were drawn up. Some conversation passed between him and Captain
Newell, when the latter again spoke a few words to his men, telling them that
if they were to put on the handcuffs they were to “clinch them tight.” Major
Tuke addressed the men, cautioning them against excitement, but telling them
that if any Maori flashed a tomahawk to shoot him down instantly. He then called
to the interpreter:— “Butler,
can you point him (Te Whiti) out ?” Mr Butler did so. Captain Gudgeon remarked:
“I think that Grey of No. 6 Company would be handy here,” meaning that Grey
could identify the men who were wanted. Grey was then called forward.

Te Whiti Surrendering to Mr Bryce, Non-ATL-0164, ATL

A few moments after Colonel Roberts said: — “Call Te Whiti.” Mr Hursthouse
(another interpreter) did so. Te Whiti replied that he would not come to him. Mr
Rolleston replied that he would not go to Te Whiti, but that Te Whiti must come
to him, where he was standing by the burial place. Te Whiti replied that he
would remain with his people. He had nothing to do with the fight of that day;
it was not his fight, but that of the pakehas. Te Whiti then intimated that he
was prepared to see Mr Bryce if he had anything to say to him. For his part he
had nothing but good words to say to Mr Bryce. Mr Bryce replied in a tone that
those who heard considered harsh, that he would not come to him unless he made
a path among his people, through which he (Mr Bryce) could ride. The Natives,
it must be remembered, were so compactly packed that to do this was an
impossibility. Te Whiti replied quite calmly that the horses’ feet might hurt
some of the children. Mr Hursthouse, interpreting for Mr Bryce, said the horse
was a quiet one. Te Whiti replied that if Mr Bryce wanted to speak to him, he
must come on foot. Mr Bryce said the day for talking was past. Te Whiti
immediately retorted: “When did you find it out ?” Mr Bryce: “This morning.”
Almost immediately afterwards, Mr Bryce ordered Colonel Roberts to carry out
his instructions. The latter, addressing Major Tuke, repeated the command,
adding “Do not touch any of the women or children.” Major Tuke ordered Captain
Newell to have Te Whiti arrested, and two of the arresting constables instantly
made their way through the crowd to where Te Whiti sat. Instead of resistance being
offered, way was made them, and Te Whiti quietly awaited their approach. The
moment they laid hands on him he rose and Colonel Roberts, evidently thinking
the constables must use unnecessary violence, called out “Let him walk if he
will.” He came away in a very dignified manner, his wife following closely.
Tohu was arrested in a similar manner, and also Hiroki. Te Whiti and Tohu were
arrested by Constables Willis and Woodward. Constable H. Mulholland, who knows
Hiroki well, and shortly after the M’Lean murder was employed in chasing him,
was detailed to arrest him. As Mulholland approached him, Hiroki folded his
arms across his breast, and Mulholland, suspecting he had weapons concealed,
ordered him to throw his arms up. This Hiroki immediately did, and was handcuffed
and searched. Nothing was found upon him. He was then passed to the rear,
orders being given to the guard to keep him separate from Te Whiti and Tohu.
These are being treated as State prisoners, Hiroki as an ordinary criminal. At
this stage Colonel Roberts gave the order to “search the whares.” Many of them
were searched, and we were in momentary dread of being discovered and arrested,
but fortunately our hut was passed over, notwithstanding, as I afterwards
ascertained, that your correspondent was strongly suspected of being about
somewhere. After their arrest, both Te Whiti and Tohu were allowed to address
the people. Te Whiti said: “Be of good heart and patient. Today’s work is not
of my doing; it comes from the hearts of the pakehas. Upon my fall the pakeha
builds his work. Be steadfast in all that is peaceful.” Tohu said: “This is the
doing of war. Be not sad this day. Turn away the sorrowful heart from you. We
go away as fools and as captured men. We looked for peace and we find war. Be
steadfast and of large heart. Keep to peaceful works. Be not dismayed; have no
fear but be steadfast.” They were then led away, and one woman just outside our
whare expressed her sorrow, when another replied, “Why are you sorry? Look! he
is laughing as he goes away with the Europeans.” While still within ear-shot Te
Whiti turned round and called out to his people: “Let your dwelling be good in
this place, oh my tribe. Works such as those will be finished this day.” He and
Tohu, together with Te Whiti’s wife, were driven to the Pungarehu block-house.
Subsequently I learned that passing a whare on the way he called out, “Keep
your spirits up, and keep to your whares. I will be with you again.”

Parihaka, November 1881, PA1-q-183-18, ATL

Shortly after the prisoners had been taken, Kina, a Taranaki chief of some
standing, briefly addressed the people. He said: “Continue to follow the
teaching of Te Whiti and Tohu, even if we are all arrested on the land that has
come to us from our forefathers.” It was expected that more arrests would be
made, as it is known that a large number of warrants had been signed, but
nothing further was done up to the moment of my leaving. The people remained in
the same position, looking very disconsolate, and the troops still surrounded
them. About an hour after the arrest, my fellow correspondent, who had been
told of my hiding-place by a half-caste, slipped a piece of paper through one
of the interstices, on which was written that he thought we might come out. It
appears that after the arrests had been effected, correspondents, who had
previously been arrested and sent to the rear, were permitted to come up to the
front. Shortly afterwards we emerged, and if anything in connection with one of
the saddest and most shameful spectacles I have witnessed could be ludicrous it
was the expression on the faces of the authorities when they saw that their
grand scheme for preventing the Colony from knowing what was done in the name
of the Queen at Parihaka had been completely frustrated. Not an action escaped
observation; not an order given was unheard or unrecorded.

The opinion amongst those who are best qualified to judge, is that the
position of the settlers is now worse than before, especially if the large
armed force is disbanded. Te Whiti’s restraining influence has been removed,
and the more turbulent, excited by today’s events, may take revenge after the
Maori fashion. To-day the kindness of the Parihaka people to me was great, and
their satisfaction at knowing that the proceedings would be recorded, very
marked.

Since writing the foregoing, I have heard that the Maories intend to
recommence fencing to-morrow, and will resist interference.

Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Following the invasion of Waikato by British imperial troops in July 1863, local Maori sought to slow their advance south through the construction of a series of defensive pa (fortifications), of which Meremere was among the most impressive. Its construction was first observed by General Cameron on 15 August, when he noted that Maori had assembled there in considerable numbers and occupied a commanding post on the right bank of the Waikato River, about two miles beyond the junction with the Whangamarino River. Rifle pits were being thrown up in all directions and one observer estimated that there were already about 1100 men there by the end of August. Construction of the pa soaked up a considerable proportion of the total number of defenders available to the Kingitanga. But with British troop numbers continuing to surge, and the Waikato River now commanded by armed steamers that were capable of causing enormous damage, continuing occupation of Meremere was becoming increasingly untenable.

In the early hours of 31 October Cameron and 600 officers and men sailed up the Waikato River, landing at a spot previously indentified as suitable during reconnaissance that was about nine miles beyond Meremere. As the British were preparing to assault the pa on the afternoon of 1 November, soldiers at a forward observation post reported that Maori were leaving Meremere in large numbers. Cameron and his main body of soldiers arrived on the scene a few hours later, charging up the hill and hoisting the British ensign at the top. In this way, British forces claimed their ‘bloodless victory’ (as one newspaper at the time described it).

Kingitanga forces had evaded confrontation with the main body of British forces for the time being. But the loss of Meremere was a strategic blow, allowing Cameron’s forces much easier access to the area beyond it. And as James Belich noted, the effort that went in to construction of Meremere was to temporarily exhaust the resources of the Kingitanga – a reluctant fighting force that was already massively outnumbered by the professional army and their heavy artillery deployed against them.

Saturday, 19 October 2013

There are multiple
accounts as to the origins of the Kingitanga, or Maori King Movement, which came
to prominence with the instalment of Potatau Te Wherowhero as the first Maori
King in 1858. Much less common is a detailed insider’s description of the
emergence of the movement and its aims and objectives. Honana Te Maioha
belonged to Ngati Mahuta and was a cousin of Matutaera, better known as King
Tawhiao, the second Maori King. He was intimately involved in the Kingitanga
and had been active in its formation. In 1882 he gave a detailed description of
how the movement had come about. It emerged at a time when the Kingitanga was
at the forefront of public attention. The year before King Tawhiao had laid
down his arms at Alexandra (Pirongia) and declared an end to the war fought in
the 1860s. Subsequent to this he travelled to a number of European settlements,
includiing, in January 1881, to Auckland. There, Tawhiao and his entourage,
including Honana Te Maioha, were feted by a grateful public and it was during
this time that Honana was interviewed by a reporter from the New Zealand Herald on the origins of the
movement. It was reproduced in a number of colonial newspapers under the
heading ‘Story of the King Movement, Told by a Maori Chief’. This is his
account:

++++++++++++++++++

On the occasion of the recent visit of the Kingites to Auckland, a reporter from
the Herald interviewed Honana te
Maioha – one of Tawhiao’s near relatives, who took an active part in the
commencement of the King’s movement – with the view of having recorded facts
respecting that singular series of events.

Honana states that
the people of Kawhia were the first, so far as he knows, to entertain the idea
of a King for the Maoris. Those who first spoke about the subject were the
Ngatihikairo, the chiefs being Waikawau and Pikia. This was before Te Rauparaha
was taken by Sir George Grey [in 1846]. The objects of the King movement were
these: - 1. To form a bond amongst all the tribes of New Zealand. 2. The desire to form
a land league, to stop the reckless alienation of land. 3. To prevent fighting
and bloodshed among the Maoris. Honana continued: Potatau, when spoken to by
the people of Kawhia, said, “It would not be right for you to call me to be a
king, because I am simply a connection of Waikato,
and a great many other tribes are interested in a matter of that kind.” At that
time Potatau was living at Awhitu, on the Manukau. He would not consent to be
made a king. Afterwards, Tamehana te Rauparaha and Matene te Whiwhi, of
Ngatiraukawa, at Otaki, went to Rotorua. Their action was quite separate from
that of the people of Kawhia. At the great meeting at Rotorua, the speaking was
to this effect: - Ko Rotorua he moana kopuapua – Rotorua is a place of ponds,
meaning that the sun would soon cause them to evaporate; ki Taupo, he moana
papaku – Taupo is a shallow sea, meaning that the people were not many, and more
scattered; ko Waikato, he awa taniwha – Waikato is a giant river. The meaning
of all this was that the king should be selected from Waikato.
This was during the first Governorship of Sir George Grey. Hikairo had then
been spoken of as king. Then was the time that Heuheu te Iwikau built the great
pataka (storehouse), which he called “Hinana ki uta, hinana ki tai” – staring
inland and staring to the sea. Potatau was invited to the meeting. He was then
living at Whatawhata. He started to go to Taupo, but when he had got to Orakau,
he had a fall from his horse, and was in consequence unable to proceed. Tawhiao
(the present king) went, Honana te Maioha, Paratene te Maioha, Takerei, Te
Huirama, Waikawau, Pungarehu, Hikuroa. The name of Tawhiao was then Tapuke (not
Te Pupuke, as we have already printed it). There was present the Roman Catholic
priest who resided at Rangiawhia, Father Garavel, and the Rev. Mr Grace, who
was the resident minister of Taupo. Representatives of the Ngatiraukawa, the
Ngatikahungunu, the Arawa, the Ngatituwharetoa, and other tribes attended. A
post was erected by order of Te Heuheu, and ropes fastened to the post. One
rope pointed to Taupiri, in Waikato, one to
Hawke’s Bay, and so on. Tongariro was the post itself, and the various ropes
represented numerous tribes, including the Waikatos. Rewi was at that meeting.
Te Heuheu ordered the ropes to be placed in the hands of different men, and
before they did so, said “Potatau is King.” Patara te Tuhi said, “Why do you
ask your son to stand as king? You should be the king.” Rewi rushed forward and
took one of the ropes, and Matuahu took one and called out the chorus, “Toia te
waka” (Drag the canoe). Hawrua [sic], one of the Ngatimaniapoto, spoke on that
occasion and said he desired that Potatau should be king. He came forward with
a sovereign in his hand and presented it to Potatau, in order to declare to him
that our own native feuds were at an end. The Whanganuis joined, and there was
perfect unanimity. Turoa was the representative of Whanganui, and Tareha and
Paora Kaiwhata of Ngatikahungunu. The arguments of Te Heuheu for establishing a
king were that the Maoris might hold the land, and that the shedding of blood
by native quarrels might be avoided. Te Rangikaharua came forward and sung the
ngeri, “Tenei te tangata puhuruhuru.” That referred to Potatau. We were
unanimous at that meeting that Potatau should be elected. (An extract from the
Rev Mr Buddle’s book was here read by Honana, where the author states that at
the Taupo meeting “the most violent party advocated a clear sweep of all the
pakehas, governor, missionaries, pakeha maories (settlers) – all.”) That is not
true. Mr Buddle was not present at the Taupo meeting. There was no such thing
advocated. We did not want to interfere with the Europeans. The movement was
for our own people only. It was not till after this that someone said that the
Europeans would be angry if we elected a king. It was replied, “Why should
they, seeing that we in no way interfere with them?” Another meeting was held
at Patea, between Hawke’s Bay and Tongariro. It was decided that the whole of
the Rangitikei river should be offered to the king to be protected. Potatau had
not agreed to accept at that time. Then a meeting was called at Rangiawhia, and
there it was unanimously agreed that Potatau should be king. By this time he
had gone to reside at Mangere. Up to this point William Thompson had not taken
any part in the king movement. Potatau did not consent as he was not sure of
the opinions of the whole people. He never desired the office, thinking that
his own dignity as a chief was sufficient. Tawhiao was then living with him at
Mangere. This next thing was the meeting at Waiuku. Potatau made a speech,
saying “Adhere to Christianity, and to love, and to the law. Formerly the God
of the Maoris was the man-eating Uenuku, but now our God is the Great King of
Heaven. These treasures are not purchased, but are given freely. Adhere to
Christianity, love, and the law.” There were many Europeans present at that
meeting. From there Potatau was taken to Ngaruawahia. Before he left Mangere he
communicated with Governor Browne regarding his visit to Waikato,
and the Governor assented to his going. After the return to Waikato,
the tree for the king flagstaff was cut at Taupiri mountain. It was a kauri.
The whole of Ngaruawahia was once a kauri forest. We floated the tree up to
Ngaruawahia. It there began to be rumored [sic] amongst the Maoris that the
pakehas would be angry on account of erecting this flag as a symbol of kingship.
The Maoris said, “Why should they be angry? We do not interfere with them. It
is a matter which concerns ourselves only.” The staff was then erected, where
the public-house now stands on the banks of the Waipa. The lower Waikatos
thought that the title Potatau should assume should be “Matua” (Patriarch), but
the others did not agree to that. It was then decided that he should be called
“King,” as that name was in the Bible. William Thompson brought out the Bible,
and put it on Potatau’s head, and certain quotations were uttered at the same
time. While this was being done, minor flags were hoisted, and after the
anointing, the great flag was pulled up. I hoisted the main flag. I went up on
the stays, and said, “This represents the North, the South, the East, and the
West, and all the people.”

(‘Story of the
King Movement, Told by a Maori Chief’, Timaru
Herald, 1 March 1882, reproduced from the New Zealand Herald, 18 February 1882).

Saturday, 21 September 2013

The importance of the Treaty of Waitangi to
Maori is reflected in their strong interest in meeting with the person of the
Crown; their Treaty partner. This was reflected in the sending of various Maori
delegations to London
to seek an audience with the monarch, but in the early twentieth century there
were two opportunities for Maori to welcome royal visitors to their own country. In 1901 the Duke
and Duchess of Cornwall (the Duke being the
second son of Edward VII) toured New Zealand. The focus for Maori
was on the royal visit to Rotorua, with thousands from iwi all over the country
(except Tainui Kingitanga) organising a Maori welcome and cultural display.
Next was a post-war tour by the Prince of Wales (Prince Edward, son of George
V) in 1920. The Rotorua leg of the tour was again the focus for Maori,
featuring a warm welcome from thousands of Maori, followed by an enormous Maori
pageant.

Te Arawa haka at Rotorua during the 1901 royal tour (PA1-f-064-03, ATL)

Opposite the [Rotorua] railway station
[5,000 of] the local tribes lined the road, and when their Highnesses emerged
from the station gave vent to a song of welcome, the unrestrained vigour of
which must have rather surprised the Royal visitors. Accompanying the chant
with wild gesticulations of welcome and flourishing their taiahas, meres, and
battle axes, they raised a deafening song which left no possible room for doubt
of the intensity of their feelings. ...A guard of honour of about 100 of the
most influential chiefs of the assembled tribes, in full Maori costume, and
carrying their taiahas, which accompanied the procession, made a very imposing
spectacle, and from their dignified bearing they seemed to be fully aware of
the great event they had gathered to celebrate – the welcoming of the grandson
of the great white Queen Wikitoria, the fame of whose mana had always been a
favourite theme.

2. James Carroll delivers a welcome from ‘the tribes
of New Zealand’…

New
Zealand Herald, 14 June 1901.

Welcome, welcome, welcome, O son! ...This
is a great day; a day that will live in the memory of our race while God
permits their existence; but it is a day of mourning. We mourn the great Queen,
to whom our fathers ceded by fealty the sovereignty over these isles; who was
the guardian of our rights and liberties... We, the humblest of her children,
alien in blood, yet kin by law and allegiance, mourn the loss of a mother who
sought the good of high and low alike, who loved peace, that by peace among her
peoples, they might rise yet higher in greatness. ...Here in the presence of
your Royal Highness, we renew our oath of allegiance; we confirm the act of our
fathers who gave all to Queen Victoria and her successors. Hear, O ye peoples!
Today we make a new treaty – new and yet old – inasmuch as we confirm the old
to which we but added expressions of continued loyalty from our generation...

3. …to which the Duke replies

New
Zealand Herald, 14 June 1901.

From the far ends of the earth, over the
wide seas, we have been sent by the great King, my father, to hear and behold,
in their own beautiful land, his children, the Maoris. (Cheers.) ... The words
of the Maoris are true words – the words of a generous and chivalrous people,
who are ready to make good with the hands the promise of the lips. (Cheers.) To
receive your pledges of loyalty and to learn from me that you have renewed your
oath of allegiance and confirmed the act of your fathers, who gave all to Queen
Victoria and her successors, will give joy to my father’s heart... The heart of
the King is warmed to his people in New Zealand. He rejoices to see them dwell
together in peace and friendship, and prays that they may continue to be united
and to strengthen each other in the works of peace...

The tribes were drawn up in mass formation
opposite the grandstand, and it was obvious at the first glance they were keyed
up for the occasion. They stood forth in all the finery reserved for such
occasions... Through two lines of wahine in full poi costumes, chanting a song
of welcome, [the Prince] came forward at the slow pace essential to Maori
etiquette, and swung round to the stand. As they sighted him tribe after tribe
took up the shout of welcome... and it was through this swelling chorus that
the Prince made his way to the Royal stand.

...A Maori maiden wearing two feather mats
came forward, removed one of the mats, and handed it to the Prince. With the
assistance of Dr [Maui] Pomare he placed it round his shoulders and there it
remained for the whole ceremony.

28th April... Today’s stunts,
altho’ terribly boring & irritating, would anyway have been a little
interesting if it had’nt[sic] poured in
sheets till 3.00 PM. The big Maori stunt which was to have been this afternoon
has been postponed till tomorrow morning, tho’ I was standing for 4 hours from
9.00 AM onwards. I had to go thro’ long & tedious Maori ceremonies at both
the native villages and had to submit to being made to look the most hopeless
RF [ruddy fool?], dolled up in mats & other things while inane Maoris
danced & made weird noises at me!! Some of the Maori women sang &
danced quite nicely, tho’ they spoilt their stunt by revolting my by kissing my
hand when I shook hands with them all & 2 of the ladies infuriated me by
trying to kiss me. That was too much sweetheart (not “too bad”) & was the
last straw & then my boredom changed into bloody mindedness, particularlywhen they made me stand for a whole hour by a
hot geiser[sic] [Pohutu] to watch it
blow off & it never did!!

... 29th April ... I’ve had such
a terrible day of Moaries[sic] & all
their comic stunts... a reception which lasted 3 hours, throughout the whole of
which I had to wear a Moari mat over my shoulders, tho’ it did’nt[sic] make me feel a bit like a Moari! All I was thankful for was that
YOU did’nt see me looking such a – fool, beloved, tho’ they gave me some fine
presents when all the ‘hakas’ & ‘poi dances’ were over!!

(Note: This is material that was culled from the final version of The Treaty of Waitangi Companion: Maori and Pakeha from Tasman to Today, published by Auckland University Press in 2010. Thanks to Bruce Stirling, who prepared this section. For more on the royal tours of 1901 and 1920 see the book I co-authored with David Armstrong: The Beating Heart: A Political and Socio-Economic History of Te Arawa, Huia Publishers 2008).

Friday, 30 August 2013

Although my book was not a winner on the night, I thought I should share a couple of images from the NZ Post Book Awards held this week. The judges noted that 62 books were entered in the general non-fiction category - more than any other - so it was very gratifying for The Meeting Place: Maori and Pakeha Encounters, 1642-1840 to be recognised in the top four. The judges commented in their general remarks that this was a 'fine and illuminating example' of history writing. In their detailed comments on my book they stated that:

The hopeless miscomprehension and miscommunication of initial encounters between Māori and Pākehā at times bordered on the darkest of tragi‐comedies, but it was inevitable – although not inevitably well recorded in our history books – that as time went on comprehension, communication and eventually mutual accommodation would come to pass. It was not simply a case of Maori bending to the will of Europeans, but of both finding what Vincent O’Malley calls a meeting place where cultural cross‐pollination took place – at least until the post‐Treaty period. O’Malley tells his story with great eloquence, marshalling multiple sources and navigating them with the sense of nuance we want in a historian. Unlike the other three general non‐fiction finalists, he did not have access to living figures to flesh out his book, but nonetheless does so with skilful use of period quotes. O’Malley himself indicates the value of such a book for the New Zealand of today when he writes at the end of the “potential for a new middle ground to flower in the years ahead”.

Sunday, 28 July 2013

It was a great thrill this week when my most recent book was announced as one of four finalists in the general non-fiction category for the 2013 NZ Post Book Awards.

The Meeting Place: Maori and Pakeha Encounters, 1642-1840 was published by Auckland University Press last year. It explores the early relationships between Maori and Pakeha across New Zealand and argues that, over time, both parties learned to rub along with one another because both had things of value that the other wanted. But that world of mutual self-interest changed dramatically in the decades after 1840 as a large influx of new settlers upset the previous rough-and-ready balance of power upon which mostly harmonious relations had been built.

The award winners will be announced at a ceremony to be held in August on 28 August. In the meanwhile members of the public are invited to play their part by selecting the winner of the People’s Choice Award. Voting ends on Sunday 18 August, with the winner also to be announced ten days later.

I had the great privilege of travelling to Rukumoana Marae, near Morrinsville, on 18 July this year for the signing of the Ngati Haua deed of settlement and formal apology from the Crown.

The date for the occasion had been specially selected to mark the anniversary of one of several petitions filed by the great Ngati Haua rangatira Wiremu Tamihana on 18 July 1865. In his petition, Wiremu Tamihana referred to the anguish of being called ‘an evil man, a rebel’ and a murderer. He called on the government to establish an independent inquiry into the causes of the Waikato War and to restore the lands wrongly confiscated from Ngati Haua and other Waikato Maori.

Bruce Stirling, Vincent O'Malley, David Armstrong at the ceremony

Although the Crown rejected Wiremu Tamihana’s pleas, the apology read out to the large crowd assembled at Rukumoana Marae by Treaty Negotiations Minister Chris Finlayson finally acknowledged the great injustices inflicted on Ngati Haua, who had been reduced to virtual landlessness through confiscation and other Crown actions.

In addition to a formal apology, Ngati Haua received $13 million compensation, in addition to a range of cultural redress measures, as part of a fast-tracked settlement that was completed in a little over six months.

The HistoryWorks team (myself, David Armstrong and Bruce Stirling) assisted with research for the claim, along with drafting and negotiation of the agreed historical account with the Crown.

In June of this year I attended a conference on ‘Cooperation and Empire’ at the University of Bern, Switzerland. The conference, which was attended by scholars from around the world, was notable for a substantial New Zealand presence, led by James Belich, formerly at the Stout Research Centre, Victoria University of Wellington, now Beit Professor of Imperial and Commonwealth History at Oxford University.

Bern

My own paper explored the role of kupapa in the New Zealand Wars of the nineteenth century. I explored how a term which initially meant those who stooped or remained low (that is, people who remained neutral in a conflict) had today come to assume almost entirely negative connotations. I argued that the notion that kupapa were ‘Uncle Toms’ or traitors was fundamentally wrong.

Far from selling out their people, those Maori also referred to in English as ‘Queenites’, ‘friendlies’ or ‘loyalists’ were endeavouring to advance the interests of their communities through strategic alliance with the Crown. They did so, I argued, out of a range of motives, few of which had much to do with whether they supported the imperial project. There was no such thing as blind adherence to the Crown or its cause.

Besides attending the conference, I also had the opportunity to explore the beautiful city of Bern, whose historic old town was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1983.

It is expected that the conference proceedings will eventually be published.

The whaling and sealing industries that emerged in
the Pacific and Southern oceans from the late eighteenth century have
attracted significant interest from historians over recent decades. A
particular focus has often been on the relationship between the
whalers/sealers and indigenous groups they encountered and interacted
with on a frequent basis. But that represents something of a false
binary. It has long been known that New Zealand Maori and other
Polynesian and South Pacific communities took an active part in sealing
and whaling work.

Now, thanks to Lynette Russell’s short but impressive
work, we also need to account for significant Australian Aboriginal
engagement with both fields of employment. And the ironic thing is that
the particular Aboriginal communities most heavily involved were among
those usually considered the greatest victims of colonization and
something approaching genocide (or what might be seen as a form of
“ethnic cleansing”).

Russell does not deny the tawdry and tragic history
of European onslaught in Australia. But she does ascribe a form of
“attenuated agency” to those Aboriginal men and women at the heart of
her book. They might not have been free to choose from a range of ideal
options. But they did have some choices. And for some Aborigines, life
in the sealing and whaling communities offered a kind of relief from the
relentless racism otherwise directed at them.

As Russell notes, skin color mattered less in the
multiracial, multilingual world of sealing and whaling than elsewhere.
Competency was what counted, and Aborigines could gain respect and
status that might have eluded them elsewhere. Indeed, profitability and
safety depended upon diverse men (and women) learning to get along with
one another.

Take William Lanné. Erroneously known both in his
lifetime and subsequently as the last Tasmanian Aboriginal male, Lanné
was among a small group of Tasmanian Aborigines to avoid removal to the
Flinders Island Aboriginal settlement, before being captured and taken
there as a seven-year-old with the rest of his family in 1842. Having
been moved to the Oyster Cove settlement, Lanné gained a measure of
financial independence and status when he took up whaling as a young
man, traveling to New Zealand and throughout the Pacific. Lanné’s life
has been overshadowed by his death, and in particular the gruesome
mutilation and dissection of his body that then followed. However,
Russell argues that such a focus ignores the extent to which Lanné was
able, during his lifetime, to assert his autonomy and seek out the
opportunities that colonization offered.

Other Aboriginal men pursued similar opportunities.
Tommy Chaseland, who famously settled in southern New Zealand and
married into the local Maori community, is perhaps the best-known
example. Yet where Russell’s work really impresses is in its efforts to
recover the otherwise largely invisible role of Aboriginal women in the
sealing industry. Conventionally portrayed as the unfortunate victims of
violence at the hands of European men, such women took an active role
in sealing in their own right. Both Aboriginal men and women resisted
and adapted to the newcomers in complex and sometimes subtle ways.

In some respects whaling and sealing proved less
disruptive of Aboriginal ways of life than other forms of European
intrusion. Aboriginal women customarily hunted seals. Meanwhile, ancient
rock art suggests that some Aboriginal communities had been harvesting
beached whales for thousands of years. As Russell points out,
shore-based whaling generated vast amounts of whale meat that was
unpalatable to many Europeans but attracted large numbers of Aborigines
to the fringes of whale stations. In this way, whaling actually helped
to buttress and reinforce customary forms of feasting and exchange. And
Aboriginal men who had spent many years developing their skills with
spears sometimes became highly valued as harpoonists aboard the whaling
ships.

The hybrid world of whaling and sealing was also one
in which the newcomers were often willing to learn from, and even adopt
aspects of the lifestyles of, their hosts. Some Europeans adopted
customary healing practices involving whales, for example, and cultural
influences extended in both directions. Both “native” and “newcomer”
were transformed by their encounters with one another, Russell argues,
and new social forms that drew on both cultures emerged as a result.
Some European sealers were regarded as “worse than savages” or otherwise
considered difficult to distinguish from Aborigines. Conversely,
Chaseland came to be regarded as “civilized.”

Russell succeeds in telling a story beyond the
familiar one of Aboriginal dispossession. Her work serves to highlight
the way in which nineteenth-century racial categories that can all too
often seem fixed and immutable were in some circumstances more slippery
and nuanced. That Australian Aborigines were in general victims of
colonization seems undeniable. But in revealing another side to that
history through the story of Aboriginal engagement with whaling and
sealing, Russell reminds us that the exceptions and complexities of
cross-cultural interaction are also important.

Sunday, 14 July 2013

Amidst the
various references to the 150th anniversary of the invasion of
Waikato on 12 July were many that referred to an ultimatum ‘issued’ to the
Waikato tribes on 11 July 1863, that is, one day before British troops crossed
the Mangatawhiri River. That ultimatum declared that:

Europeans quietly living on their
own lands in Waikato have been driven away;
their property has been plundered; their wives and children have been taken
from them. By the instigation of some of you, officers and soldiers were murdered
at Taranaki. Others of you have since expressed approval of these murders.
Crimes have been committed in other parts of the island, and the criminals have
been rescued, or sheltered under the color [sic] of your authority.

You are now assembling in armed
bands; you are constantly threatening to come down the river to ravage the
settlement of Auckland,
and to murder peaceable settlers. Some of you offered a safe passage through
your territories to armed parties contemplating such outrages.

The well-disposed among you are
either unable or unwilling to prevent these evil acts.

I am therefore compelled, for the
protection of all, to establish posts at several points on the Waikato River, and to take necessary measures
for the future security of persons inhabiting that district. The lives and
property of all well-disposed people living on the river will be protected, and
armed and evil-disposed people will be stopped from passing down the river to
rob and murder the Europeans.

I now call on all well-disposed
Natives to aid the Lieutenant-General to establish and maintain these posts,
and to preserve peace and order.

Those who remain peaceably at
their own villages in Waikato or move into
such districts as may be pointed out by the Government, will be protected in
their persons, property, and land.

Those who wage war against Her Majesty, or remain in arms,
threatening the lives of Her peaceable subjects, must take the consequences of
their acts, and they must understand that they will forfeit the right to the
possession of their lands guaranteed to them by the Treaty of Waitangi, which
lands will be occupied by a population capable of protecting for the future the
quiet and unoffending from the violence with which they are now so constantly
threatened.

Many of the
allegations levelled against the Waikato
tribes were demonstrably false. Grey and his ministers had already determined
some weeks earlier to invade Waikato and were
looking to justify that decision.

But it is
less the contents of the ultimatum that I am interested in here than the timing
of it. In fact, as I showed in a recent article, though the ultimatum was dated
11 July 1863, it was still being drafted two days later — a day after troops
had already entered the Waikato (see ‘Choosing Peace or Waikato: The 1863
Invasion of Waikato’, New Zealand Journal
of History, Vol. 47, No. 1, 2013). The former Waikato Civil Commissioner, John Gorst,
also confirmed that the nominal date of 11 July was a fiction, recalling that:

This date is fallacious. I met
the messenger, carrying the first copies printed in the native language, on the
evening of July 14th, at dusk. He was then on the road between Auckland and Otahuhu, and did not reach Waikato
until after the battle of Koheroa, which was fought on the 15th.

In other
words, the ultimatum was a retrospective one, issued after troops had already
invaded the Waikato. The ultimatum had been
intended mainly to suggest that the Crown went to war reluctantly, only after
all other options had been exhausted, and after Waikato Maori had been given
full opportunity to comply with the Crown’s demands. But they hadn’t. It was a
sham ultimatum, issued to provide a fig leaf of decency for the lie that this
was a just war.